Treasures in My Heart
by penspot
Summary: Mary looks back on her feelings about giving birth and watching people react to her firstborn son. Merry Christmas everyone! I haven't written a Bible fic in a while. This piece is somewhere in the middle of narrative, prose, and poetry so if that's not your cup of tea and you're looking for a straight narrative, you can go check out my other fic The Christmas Conundrum


**A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I haven't written a Bible fic in a while. This piece is somewhere in the middle of narrative, prose, and poetry so if that's not your cup of tea and you're looking for a straight narrative, you can go check out Christmas conundrum found here: s/7599805/1/A-Christmas-Conundrum**

 **Also the quotes are verses from Mary's song found in Luke 1**

Treasures in My Heart

 _"My soul glorifies in the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my savior…"_

Miraculous. That was all I could think to describe him as my son lay in my arms. I had seen many births in my village. I had even helped with my cousin Elizabeth's delivery. Birth was nothing new to me. Nor was death. So many children had been lost to death upon their release from the womb. The fear in that moment was very real.

 _"His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation."_

We had no choice but to huddle in a stable. The town had been packed and we didn't have time to find what family Joseph had there because my labor intensified. He was coming, and nothing was stopping him. There had been an inn with a cave holding the tenant's donkeys and the innkeeper's cow. How was a child supposed to be born in there and survive? Yet God showed his grace to us, providing in those uncertain conditions. The straw seemed fairly fresh, there was a well nearby, and my shawl was readily available to shield my newborn son from the harshness of the world.

And he was beautiful! Perhaps it is motherly bias on my behalf, but I had never seen a babe more beautiful than my Jesus. He was as squishy and loud as any other child, but the beauty that came from his presence was what etched into my soul. Joseph was able to wipe out a manger and fill it with hay for when he fell asleep. I noticed my betrothed's face ease the more he watched his adopted son. I saw shepherds fall to their knees and run into the town, glorifying God. I felt what anxiety and fear curled up in my own heart untangle. Just sitting next to him washed me in waves of a peace I had never felt before. The labor pains faded to nothing as I nursed him there in the hay. It could only by the spirit of God.

 _"He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble."_

It remained with Jesus in the following days. When it was time, we went to present him in the temple. Whatever holy power his tiny for emanated, it brought promise and rejoicing to two elders who had waited for so long. I listened as they praised God. I watched as they worshipped over my son. I wondered at God's promises being fulfilled in my lifetime, before my eyes.

" _He has filled the hungry with good things, but has sent the rich away empty."_

Then the foreign men came. It had been almost a year since the birth of my first and with the cries and changes and sleepless night, the glory and awe had faded. Joseph had found work with family and we had made our home in Bethlehem. Joseph and I began to think about adding to our family when, one night, a caravan of strange men came to our doorstep. I could practically hear the neighbors whispering and gossiping. What could men clearly from the east want with our household?

My husband, ever faithful and courageous, refused them entrance at first, but the men humbly begged for a glimpse of the king that had been born. They brought forward luxurious gifts I would never have imagined possessing in my life. Though the treasures would be quickly used for our survival in Egypt, what I witnessed, all I had heard and seen, never left my heart.

But they came looking for a king and I couldn't help but question how my son would achieve such a kingship? How would my child fulfill such promises and prophecies?

I had never imagined it to come in the form of a cross. Growing up hearing messianic passages, I vaguely knew that the Messiah would be burdened with pain and suffering. How could I not have seen? Yet it made sense. This was the fruition of his coming. Why he had come from a virgin. This was why he had been born- to do what no sinful human could do; to redeem the world.

And so, I kept silent. Through the wailing and cheering; the jeering and gnashing of teeth, I held my peace as they killed him.

When I saw him alive again, I gave him one last hug from the mother who loved and raised him before turning him back over to his Father. He was no longer my child but I his. And these treasures no longer need to be hidden in my heart to ponder, but to be shared so that all may rejoice in the salvation that comes through the son of God:

Jesus.


End file.
